


Mourning Ritual

by bloominglungs



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 90s AU, F/M, This was supposed to be PWP, lol as if, reiner is a baker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29824998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominglungs/pseuds/bloominglungs
Summary: After an unexpected loss, Reiner quits his corporate job, moves into a new apartment and starts his own business in the field he truly loves: baking. He bonds with his food-loving neighbour and attempts to be happy.
Relationships: Sasha Blouse/Reiner Braun
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a quick pwp one-shot, lol. I fucking suck. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

Sunlight poured in through the little slits on the window-blind, bathing the room in its cosy yellow tint. The man shifted in bed, his arm reaching for the empty spot next to his body, the pillow cold and perfectly shaped like nothing had been resting on it. Mumbling to himself, he opened his eyes to confirm that the other side of his double bed was, indeed, empty. It had been so for a while. Still, every morning he would drowsily reach his arm out only to be met with the nothingness of the previous morning. It was only a reflex, he mustered, just an old habit he couldn’t shake, even after one and a half years. It would eventually subside.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as he glanced over at his alarm clock to find the smaller hand somewhere between the eight and the nine and, with a yawn, he made his way towards the window, pulling the blinds open just enough to look outside for a minute. Still in nothing but his light blue boxer shorts, he dragged himself to his kitchen. The earthy scent of freshly brewed coffee embraced him as he checked the big wall calendar he had got from the Chinese restaurant next door to see if he had anything major coming up. Never in his life had he needed planners, calendars, alarm clocks — his tasks were promptly memorised and organised in a file in his brain, and he always remembered everything: birthdays, anniversaries, big events at work. But his brain had begun to lose its prowess and, regretfully, he had found himself writing down every detail in the wall calendar.

It’s a lovely sunny morning as we approach the beginning of summer, the weather forecast looks clear for the next few days with a rise in the temperature-

The man absent-mindedly sipped on his coffee, the voice on the radio a mere filler for the otherwise silent kitchen. Outside, the screams and laughter of children could be heard from the school across the road. He smiled to himself, somewhat bitterly. A heavy knock on the door, however, startled him out of his own thoughts, and he scratched his head in confusion, unsure if he had simply forgotten he was expecting somebody on a Tuesday morning.

“Yes?”

“Excuse me, are you Mr Reiner Braun?”

On the other side of his door stood a tall and slender woman with dark hair and denim overalls. She held a big cardboard box in her arms, and he peeked to see his name written on it, with the wrong address.  
  
“I’m he.”

She carefully handed him the box before disappearing into the stairwell, not saying anything else, leaving Reiner mildly dumbfounded, half-naked in his doorway. Blinking, he came to the conclusion that his upstairs neighbour might have got his package by mistake and the cogs in his brain shifted, as he realised he had ordered some supplies off of the Net.

He looked around his cramped living room, trying to figure out where to leave the box. After three months living there, he thought he would have unpacked and organised all of his belongings, yet large boxes still laid about, some opened and half emptied. One day I’ll tackle this, he reassured himself before putting on his tracksuit and running shoes and closing the door behind him.

He had grown so accustomed to the scent of baked goods that he could barely sense it anymore as it flooded every corner of his small apartment. As the cake baked in the oven, Reiner decided that maybe he could take care of some of those moving boxes he had pushed over to a corner, in an attempt to ignore them altogether. Luckily, his timer went off before he could move on to open a second box, and he ran back to the kitchen to check on his cake, piercing the middle of it with a large wooden toothpick. Reiner chose to ignore the mess in his counter, pushing all the random objects to the side in order to leave space for his freshly baked cake.

“Shit, where did I put my cooling rack?”

He found it underneath a pile of dirty dishes and sighed as he washed and dried it with a tea towel. A deep sigh formed in his lungs and Reiner debated for a moment if he should let it out–the physical manifestation of his inner exhaustion and inability to perform the simplest tasks, such as keep his house and workspace neat. It felt like too much of a chore just to breathe, just to exist, let alone put effort into anything. He couldn’t decide what felt more overwhelming: the mess his apartment was in, or the idea of cleaning it up. The sigh did come out, deep and drawn-out and it eventually turned into a cry of sheer fatigue, tears staining his cheeks, a hand coming to hold his head as he sobbed on the floor, enveloped by sunlight and the aroma of his orange cake.

The skin of his hands felt rough and dry, his fingers so swollen that the gold band on his ring finger threatened to become stuck there. He examined the thin band, using the pad of his right thumb to push it up in his finger, forcefully rotating and pushing until it slid off, and he held it in his palm, his eyes puffy and red. The blonde man gently placed the ring on his cluttered counter and got up, his mind in a haze, but he had to deliver that cake in less than twenty-four hours, and he still hadn’t even begun to decorate it.

*

He stood in front of the door, a pastel blue cardboard box in his hand, a slight flush to his cheeks. There really was no reason to feel out of place or awkward, but he did anyway. In the three months he had lived in that apartment building, he had not once spoken to any of the neighbours beyond uninterested greetings out of sheer politeness. Working from home seemed like a fantastic idea at first but the lack of social contact had started to get to him, oddly enough. Luckily, his aunt and uncle lived in the area and he had been reassured they would drop by from time to time to keep him company but, so far, they never did. Reiner knocked, cleared his throat and took a step back, waiting for the door before him to open. He waited for five minutes, then five more, knocked a couple more times and waited a couple more minutes but the door never opened. Frustrated, he turned around towards the stairs and was surprised to see her, so surprised they nearly bumped into one another.

“Oh, hello,” she beamed, slightly confused but mostly amused. “Did you need something?”

“I just-” he stuttered, feeling his face heat up as he avoided eye contact with the young woman. “I had leftover cake and wanted to give you some. You know, to thank you for delivering my package...”

Her brown eyes widened like a cat when its owner shakes the food box nearby, and she took the cake box in her hands, careful not to drop it. She looked up at the man and smiled brightly, genuine happiness mirrored in her face.

“That’s- that’s very kind of you,” she said as she opened her front door. “Would you like to come in?”

The offer caught Reiner off guard, and he brought a hand to the back of his head, nervously scratching at his hair, trying not to sound too shocked. She entered her home and left the door wide open as she put the cake box down and removed her trainers.

“I’ll make you some tea.”

Hesitantly, he stepped inside her apartment, leaving his shoes by the door. It was exactly the same as his own apartment: a small entrance hall giving way to a small living room with an open kitchenette, followed by a narrow hallway with three doors in it. He didn’t really know what do with himself, the discomfort of being in somebody’s home for the first time settling in, even if the house looked just like his. Despite the architectural similarities, her decorations were a lot more extravagant than his. There was a deer skull mounted on the wall, a lot of framed photographs of people he assumed to be her friends and family or maybe herself as a child. Everything was brown or red or yellow and it felt very cosy and warm and welcoming, unlike the mess he had everywhere in his flat. It was a comforting little home, and he eased himself a bit, even though he still felt odd being in a stranger’s home. For the most part, she was indeed a stranger. He didn’t know her name or anything about her other than her address. For a moment, he contemplated the weird thought that she could be trying to seduce him or, God forbid, murder him with a serrated knife, like in Law & Order, and then mount his skull to the wall too. He shook the thought away, realising how silly it was.

“I always seem to smell some sort of cakes around here, so it’s been you all along,” she noted, taking a big bite out of the red velvet cake. He had brought her five chunks of different coloured cakes, all shaped a bit odd like trimmings of a large cake that had been shaped into something else.

“Yeah, I’m a baker,” he stated as he added a spoonful of sugar to his herbal tea and stirred, bringing the spoon to the surface of the mug and dripping the tea in the spoon back to the mug. He had relaxed a little when she gave him permission to sit on the sofa, but he still felt somewhat uneasy. “And cake decorator.”

“That sounds so wonderful!” She spoke somewhat loudly, even though they were alone, and he was right next to her. He noticed a bit of an accent, perhaps Southern, definitely country. “How do you not eat all your cakes?”

For the first time in a while, Reiner laughed. A genuine laugh that made his chest vibrate. She laughed along with him, and he noticed the way she sometimes snored a bit, like a little pig, and he thought that was cute. She was cute, Reiner decided.

“Well, if I eat them, I won’t get paid,” he shrugged, recovering from his fit of laughter, feeling adventurous enough to look her in the eye for once, earning a soft smile from the woman.

They finished their tea, taking bites out of the cakes every now and then, conversation flowing more and more naturally by the minute. It had been the first time since the move that Reiner felt heard, seen. He was happy to have met the neighbour, the only person he had talked to for three months. Maybe he could bring her leftover cake more often, or invite her downstairs. No, he thought to himself, furrowing his brows. Your apartment is a huge mess, you can’t show that to people. Reiner tried to push these thoughts aside and enjoy his time for once, just one hour or two of not feeling guilty or grieving. The neighbour didn’t know why he had moved or that he hadn’t been able to unpack for three months or that he almost cried every morning when he saw all the kids having fun at the school gate just opposite their building. She knew nothing but his name, address and what he did for a living. She was the first person in the past year and a half who spoke to him normally, didn’t awkwardly apologise or made him feel like he had to constantly perform some sort of mourning ritual. And he wasn’t going to ruin the little joy he had found by burdening this woman with his sorrow. Not now.

“Of course, I can bring cake whenever I have some left, it would go to waste anyway.” Her eyes lit up, and she thanked him a million times, revealing she had loved his recipes, especially the lemon cake. “It was lovely, you’re very talented Mr Reiner Braun.”

“Well, I’m sure you have some talents of your own, Miss Sasha Blouse!”

He went to bed feeling a little bit lighter that night. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to turn around in bed and face the empty side just yet.


	2. Beefcake.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some soft depresso Reiner hours, I guess? Idk what I'm doing, lads.

Sasha shifted in her sleep, murmuring something unintelligible and reaching out towards the nothingness of her room, engulfed in almost darkness. Outside, the sun had set long ago, replaced by the moon, the stars and the street lamps - a very different kind of light, duller and tainted in blue. It was hard to remember details from the dream she was having, but the face of her father in a crowd of thousands remained vivid in her memory. She remembered being on stage, having bright spotlights shining on her form. Everyone knew all the words to the song she was singing - which she forgot - and they cheered for her and chanted her name as she stood there, so small on such a large stage, her Gibson J100 strapped to her torso as she sang away her heart’s contents and sorrows.

  
Her eyelids fluttered open, adjusting to the oddly-illuminated room, the outside lights shining through the open window. The pitter-patter of the rain against the concrete felt like an extension of her dream, the simple melody of the singing wind lulling her into a state of half-consciousness.

“Shit…” She sighed to herself, looking around her surroundings of the bedroom she knew so well but sometimes felt so foreign. Her hair was messy and her clothes all wrinkled from having fallen asleep on top of the made bed and she couldn’t remember how she got there, still dizzy in her drowsiness. Glancing at her CD player in the corner, she read 06:03. Afraid she would sleep through her alarm in fifty-seven minutes, Sasha decided to stay awake and just enjoy the laziness of dawn and take her time in the shower, something she used to love doing but hadn’t had the time to indulge in for a while.

Her old guitar case always greeted her from the dark corner of her closet every morning when she got dressed; however, she had learned to mostly ignore it. _Out of sight, out of mind._ But after that dream, Sasha’s eyes lingered on it. Beside it, a pink notebook she recognised as the diary where she would write her verses for songs she would never finish. It felt like staring down her forgotten childhood memories, all of her shattered dreams left behind in the back of her closet, like a problem child in a Victorian household. _Dreams are nice for a while,_ Sasha would tell herself, _but reality is stronger than any dream_. She pulled her clothes out of the closet and closed it quickly, trying to shake away the uneasiness in her stomach. The rain had subsided and the first rays of sunshine illuminated the city, glowy and warm, like a hug from a long-gone friend. 06:09. Sasha hopped in the shower, the hot water embracing her skin as she tried to focus on anything to lighten her mind. _You’re not a kid anymore_ , she whispered, _focus on the real world and stop dreaming!_

On top of her kitchen counter rested the pastel blue box that Reiner had given her the previous day. She took a peak, debating whether or not having a chunk of cake for breakfast would be that bad, ultimately deciding against it because she wanted to truly savour his creations to have with a nice cup of tea after work. And, somehow, the thought of a lovely piece of cake waiting for her at home helped Sasha get through the day. _I should get him something,_ she pondered, _after all, he’s new to the building._

_*_

It was a small victory, but it was better than nothing. For the first time in three months, Reiner had managed to put his books away and get rid of one of the boxes in the corner of his living room. He took a deep sigh as he brought the cigarette to his lips and took an exasperated drag out of it, holding it in for a second and letting it out slowly. The rain had stopped and the sky had cleared, the afterglow of the rain tinting the world in melancholic cold tones as the sunlight faded out of existence. He put out his cigarette and went back inside, taking the stairs as he always did. The birthday cake he had been working on was nearly finished and he only needed to cut out some fondant letters, it shouldn’t take long. Reiner carefully lifted his finished cake to place it on one of his pastel blue cardboard boxes and admired it one last time: turquoise fondant covered the whole rectangular surface of the cake, colourful little fish made out of modelling chocolate strategically placed here and there, like a cute little aquarium made out of red velvet. The letters he had just made read _HAPPY 13TH BIRTHDAY SOPHIA._ Reiner glanced over at his wall clock and decided that maybe he could try to tackle one last box for the day before sitting down with a cup of milk. Just as he was about to open the refrigerator door, however, a loud knock caught him by surprise.

“Hi!”

The way she excitedly greeted him with a big smile on her face felt like a warm hug after a long day and the corner of Reiner’s lips instantly lifted when he saw his neighbour standing in his doorway.

“I wanted to thank you for the cake so I brought you a calzone,” she beamed as she handed him a small plastic bag from Gino’s, the pizza joint around the corner. “You said you liked prosciutto.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” he blushed slightly, his hand coming to scratch his neck. “I just finished a cake, if you wanna see it.”

His unplanned suggestion, however kind, came to be met with instant regret as soon as the thought crossed his mind that his apartment was incredibly messy. For a fraction of a second, he hoped Sasha would say no– _Oh, I’m busy, I’m sorry..._ \- but that wasn’t the case. Humming to herself, she made her way inside his home, not too concerned with her surroundings. It took her a little while to remember to remove her shoes, which she apologised for right as she slid her dad sneakers off and carefully placed them in the shoe holder by the door. Reiner glanced at her Garfield socks and laughed to himself.

“Well, uhm, please excuse the mess,” the man began, embarrassed half to death, mentally chastising himself for never getting around to unpacking and for allowing his living space to become so cluttered, so disorderly. I used to be so anal, how did this happen? To his shock, however, Sasha didn’t seem disgusted by the mess at all. She seemed pretty unbothered, actually.

“I’ll help you with these,” she shrugged, pointing at the boxes in the corner. “You haven’t had time to unpack?”

Reiner cleared his throat, unsure of how exactly to answer the question. It hadn’t really been a lack of time, per se. More like a lack of will to live. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Well, yeah, it’s been stressful,” he lied. Well, it wasn’t a lie. The full truth would have taken too long anyway, so he felt that answer was satisfactory. She didn’t waste time with any more inquiries, though, as she grabbed a box at random, opening it to reveal what looked like bulky clothes.

“I think I found your winter clothes,” she announced, carefully going through the pieces one by one without removing them from the box. “You won’t be needing them for another four months or so, but you could just hide them away in your closet until then.”

Reiner picked up the box easily and carried it towards the little hallway where his room was, disappearing for a moment while Sasha rummaged through a second box, full of a miscellanea of skincare products, make-up, a couple of small pieces of women’s clothing. Sasha took a little bottle of nail polish in her hands, a rich dark burgundy colour called Vamp from Chanel, her eyes widening. _This is expensive as fuck_ , she gasped. _His wife must be loaded!_

“Found any more interesting things?”

Reiner’s deep voice startled her, and she dropped the bottle on her lap, picking it up nearly instantly, like a child caught eating gummy worms just before dinner time.

“Uhm, just some stuff from your wife, I guess...” Her face had turned red and she shifted uncomfortably, lifting her butt just a little and moving it to the side so it was sitting directly on the floor as opposed to resting on her heels. “S-she likes makeup, huh?”

The colour nearly faded from Reiner’s visage, his eyes wide and mouth agape, as if he had seen a monster but couldn’t bring himself to run away from it, instead just standing there in utter shock. Sasha wasn’t even sure how to feel or what she’d done to grant such a response from the man, she didn’t think that dropping a bottle of nail varnish was that bad a sin: it didn’t even crack or anything! Her heart was racing in her chest, and she could throw up right there. The look in Reiner’s eyes was almost scary. Quickly putting the items back in the box, she got up and made her way to the door. He had been friendly the day before but Sasha realised she barely knew the man, walking away seemed like the wise thing to do. As she was about to put her sneakers back on, Reiner seemed to regain his senses and called out her name.

“Sasha...”

She turned around to see tears running down his cheeks as he collapsed on the floor and held the box in his arms like it was his most prized possession. Sasha was confused, unable to piece together what was happening before her eyes, the cogs in her brain far too slow at that point. She stood there, dumbfounded to her core, trying to make sense of what just happened and that is when she remembered she had never seen a woman around the building that could potentially be Reiner’s wife. She had seen Reiner many times going up and down the stairs, she had seen all the other neighbours she was already familiar with before he even moved. She had never heard Reiner talking to anyone, never heard a female voice coming from downstairs. It took her a long couple of minutes, but it finally dawned on her that, for whatever reason, Reiner’s wife (ex-wife?) did not live with him at all. And, for some reason, he had packed her belongings and taken them to his new apartment, where he lived by himself.

“W-would you like to have these things?” Again, a surprising offer he didn’t mean to make. What is wrong with me? “She was a bit chubbier than you, but those are just pyjamas...”

_Was._

She made her way back to where Reiner sat and fell to her knees, her stomach turning uncomfortably and a lump forming in her throat that she just couldn’t swallow. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his broad figure, awkwardly at first– after all, he was almost a stranger but, soon enough, he reciprocated the embrace, sobbing into the crook of her neck, his tears falling on her skin as he crumbled like a cake. It had been a while since Sasha had comforted anyone but she figured that running her hand gently up and down his back would help. She was no stranger to the utter nothingness of losing a loved one, the sheer emptiness and uncertainty of not knowing where to go from there, how to carry on living.

“I-I’m sorry...”

“It’s okay,” was all she managed before pulling away to look at him, eyes puffy and red, a snot bubble forming in his right nostril, lips quivering.

“I look like shit.”

“You really don’t, _Beefcake_ ,” she laughed, mentally cringing at the weird nickname. Well, cake... he’s beefy... Ugh! Fortunately, Reiner thought the nickname was funny and gave her a little smile in response before slowly getting up and making his way towards the bathroom. Sasha had to fight the urge to start crying too, her own loss clinging to her chest.


End file.
